


The Same, But Different

by awkwardlyQuixotic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardlyQuixotic/pseuds/awkwardlyQuixotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is curious about Dave's DJ equipment. Fluff and kissing happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same, But Different

The sliders and buttons feel so familiar beneath your fingers. You haven’t done this in so long; it reminds you of before the game too much. You’ve missed it, though. The house is empty so you’ve not bothered with headphones. The bass makes your insides vibrate, makes your head feel clearer than it has in a long time. The neighbours must hate you.

You’re so engaged in the sick beats that are flowing from beneath your hands that you don’t hear John come in. It’s hardly your fault though - he closes the front door gently so you won’t stop. You don’t see the smile on his face as he walks towards the spare room, where you keep all of the equipment. He leans against the doorframe watching you, swaying slightly to the music, until the song ends. You almost shit your pants when he drops a quick kiss on the top of your head, ever the prankster.  
“Holy shit, Egbert, you don’t just go sneaking up on people like that. When the fuck did you get in?” You look up at him and he’s giggling like a ten year old. You have to hold back a smile.   
“Like I could resist! I’m a tiny bit sorry, I swear. Uh, about 5 minutes ago I guess. Class ended early.” He suddenly looks shy, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the carpet.   
“I always thought that was cool, you know. Loads of people play the piano...” John’s words trail off awkwardly but you know what he’s asking.  
“I’ll show you the ropes if you want,” you say, letting a tiny tiny smile out. Nobody has to know, okay. Your facial expressions are none of their business. John practically jumps for joy, and you stand up and motion him to move in front of you. 

“Okay, so, uh... What do I do?” His eyes are wide as he moves his hands over the mass of buttons, not daring to touch any. Stepping closer, close enough to lean your head on his shoulder, you spread your hands over the top of his and move them for him. You help him start the next song, something slow but with a beat that makes your legs tremble. (Okay, you might have it up too loud. Whatever.)

The two of you stand there for a while, John smiling widely and you murmuring into his ear what each of the buttons you’re showing him does. By the time the next song starts, you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist instead and he’s really getting the hang of it. Simple stuff, but he knows what sounds good. You’re both swaying to the beat as you press a kiss to the side of his neck, and then another, licking slowly up to the edge of his jaw and kissing just under his ear. John chuckles, pressing a couple more buttons, and then suddenly you’re shoved against the wall, hands pinned above your head, while the music plays in the background. He kisses you after a moment, hard, and your lips move with his until his tongue swipes across them. He smells like outside, the fresh breeze of summer. You allow him into your mouth, let him taste you and stroke your tongue along his gently. His hand settles on your waist, while the other holds your wrists pinned to the wall still. After a while (who knows how long? You sort of lost track of time there) you have to stop for breath, and John leans his forehead on yours, smiling. Your lips almost touch.   
“That was fun,” he says softly, “but I like this better”. You agree wholeheartedly. He releases your hands, slipping his own newly free one up the front of your shirt. You grab him by the back of the neck and pull his face to yours, reinitiating the kiss. One hand finds its way to his belt and he mutters “damn it, Dave” into your mouth. You laugh.

Eventually the first track starts playing again but neither of you are paying much attention.


End file.
